Clare swallowed.
“His disappearance was investigated several years ago.”
My heart seemed to stop.
“Disappearance?”
Clare nodded slowly.
“He was reported missing.”
I looked toward the bathroom.
Suddenly, five years of scrubbing no longer looked obsessive.
It looked deliberate.
The police searched the house more thoroughly.
They found nothing else immediately.
Then, late that afternoon, Ethan came home.
His truck pulled into the driveway.
I watched through the window as he stepped out.
He looked completely ordinary.
Calm.
Unhurried.
Then he opened the front door.
The moment he saw the police, he froze.
His eyes moved toward me.
Then toward Clare.
Then toward the bathroom.
His face changed.
Only for a second.
But Clare saw it.
So did I.
“What happened?” Ethan asked.
One of the officers stepped forward.
“We need to ask you some questions.”
Ethan looked at me.
“Natalie?”
I couldn’t answer.
He took another step.
Then noticed the evidence bags on the table.
